Through bushes and through briars
I've lately made my way
All for to hear a small bird sing
I make my peace that way
All for to hear that small bird sing
And heed what they've to say

Your speak is filled with woe betide
Yet singularly sublime
A language, a liturgy, alive yet saturnine
For your rarity determines mine
Such times we find we're in the presence of
A reckoning divine

Sometimes I'm uneasy
And troubled in my mind
Sometimes I think we've gone too far
To turn it round in time
Sometimes I'm plagued
By all I should and must
And what we'll leave behind

Through bushes and through briars
Eventually we stray
And if we hear the small birds sing
Their requiem proclaims
You'll never hear so sweet as
The birds all in the spring
As we watch them fly away